


meet Huntress

by honey_you_should



Series: family [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Dog adoption, Fluff, M/M, hanzo is a loving but exasperated husband, jesse and hanzo love each other a lot, jesse mccree is a sneaky guy, they were on a dinner date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_you_should/pseuds/honey_you_should
Summary: Hanzo and Jesse walk home.… But of course it can’t just be that simple.Or: how these two adopted another dog.You can probably read this as standalone, though context is good





	meet Huntress

**Author's Note:**

> this is about two years into retired life (Baby is ten now) + the bakery that Jesse works at is called Davi’s Pastries

Jesse stands from his chair and walks around the small outdoor café table, coming to a stop a couple of feet from Hanzo’s chair. He puts his left hand behind his back and extends his right hand, bending at the waist.

 

Hanzo looks from the proffered hand to Jesse’s eyes and raises an eyebrow.

 

“I do not need your assistance in helping me stand, Jesse. I am not _that_ old,” Hanzo says, unmoving from his seat at the table.

 

“Oh come now darlin’, I’m jus’ bein’ polite,” Jesse says, wiggling his extended fingers and giving Hanzo his most charming smile.

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes, but there is a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Why did I ever marry someone as childish as you?” Hanzo teases, taking Jesse’s hand and standing up.

 

“Ouch sweetheart, that hurts,” Jesse says, wide-eyed and clutching his chest. Hanzo rolls his eyes and Jesse lets go of Hanzo’s hand so that he can pull on his light bomber jacket.

 

“Would you like me to kiss it better, cowman?” Hanzo deadpans, zipping up the jacket. He sees Jesse grinning out of the corner of his eye, bubbly and unashamed.

 

“A kiss would go a long way...”

 

Jesse starts to lean in and Hanzo decides to humour him with a quick peck on the lips. Smiling with self-satisfaction, Jesse takes out a smoke and a light as Hanzo tucks his chair in. Once they’re ready to go, Jesse holds out his right hand and they set off down the street, homebound.

 

The afternoon is waning into the evening and has painted the sky in streaks of orange and pink over blue; the small village square looks like something straight out of a storybook, with its cosy buildings and quaint street lanterns.

 

Hanzo enjoys the fall breeze as it twirls through his hair; Baby is back home enjoying a good nap, so they take a relaxed, meandering stroll back to the outskirts of their village.

 

A few moments pass in silence before Hanzo realises that his husband has stopped talking altogether. He glances up and catches Jesse watching him out of the corner of his eye; Hanzo furrows his brows in confusion. “Is there something on my face?”

 

Seeming to startle out of some sort of daydream, Jesse smiles and winks. “Yup.”

 

Hanzo looks at him with a little frown and Jesse swoops down to kiss his cheek. “Got it,” he whispers and Hanzo elbows him, looking away. Jesse chuckles and squeezes Hanzo’s left hand as a reassurance that there’s nothing actually wrong.

 

Jesse swings their joined hands a little as they walk, chatting about his day at the youth club and the one kid that he’s taken a liking to. Hanzo met her once when he went to meet Jesse after work, a young rascal that reminds Hanzo of what he’s heard of Jesse when he was younger. Hanzo had teased Jesse about seeing himself in the young girl, but Jesse had just smiled and laughed along.

 

They are in the middle of a conversation about one of the kids that Hanzo teaches archery to when Jesse suddenly stops short and turns to face Hanzo – or rather, the building behind Hanzo.

 

Confused, Hanzo turns as well and reads the sign by the door declaring this to be the local rescue pound and veterinary clinic.

 

Jesse squeezes Hanzo’s hand to get his attention and Hanzo looks over at him with a curious look on his face.

 

“Wanna go take a look? I hear they let you pet some o’ the animals,” Jesse asks. Hanzo grows even more curious. Some might even say a little suspicious.

 

“Jesse, we have a dog at home that you can pet.”

 

Jesse nods and chews his lower lip a little, “Yeah, but maybe I wanna see some other animals.” Hanzo narrows his eyes.

 

“We have lived here for two years and not once have you expressed any interest in coming here to see the animals.” Jesse blushes a little – just the barest dusting of a pink hue on his cheeks – and Hanzo is definitely suspicious now. “What are you planning?”

 

“What? Nothin’ honey, I just wanna see some critters.”

 

Hanzo raises his eyebrows, speaking volumes of his disbelief of the cowboy’s claims.

 

Jesse sticks his lower lip out and raises their clasped hands, putting his metal hand over both of theirs – he is giving Hanzo honest-to-God _puppy eyes_. Hanzo flattens his lips into a firm line and looks off to the side, trying to not laugh at Jesse’s increasingly over-exaggerated pout.

 

Then he takes a deep breath and meets Jesse’s eyes. “Just to pet them. Nothing more.”

 

Jesse beams at Hanzo, bringing their joined hands to his lips and noisily kissing his husband’s knuckles. Before Hanzo can make a sarcastic comment, Jesse has stubbed and binned his smoke in the nearby trash can and is tugging Hanzo in through the glass door.

 

If he had not spent most of his life training to be agile and graceful, Hanzo probably would have tripped over with the force of Jesse’s tugging and how fast his longer legs were carrying him over to the reception desk.

 

After Jesse explains wanting to have a look at the rescue animals, the person behind the desk calls over a member of staff (who is currently shelving packets of dog treats). They cheerily introduce themself as Jamie and leads them down a short hall and into a wide room lined with lots of small pens.

 

As Jesse crouches down next to the first one to gently click his tongue at a few small cats, Jamie explains that these are the animals that have been found and brought in over the past six months.

 

“When we bring in animals from the streets, they’re usually in a bad state – street fights and abandonment and undernourishment, not to mention infections and all that jazz.” As they speak, Jamie gestures to the room in general. Their voice is pitched lower, trying for a serious tone. Hanzo sees Jesse walk a few feet before dropping into a crouch by another pen. “We wash them up and our veterinarians take care to give these animals their shots to prevent future diseases, as well as mending any injuries.” Their voice goes back to being peppy and bright, “In the end all that’s left is for them to find happy homes!”

 

Clearly, Jamie is trying to sell them on pretty words and pity parties. Perhaps just as clearly, Hanzo does not much care for this conversation.

 

... But the kid looks a little lost now, having finished their spiel and not gotten a reaction. They’re probably new to this; Hanzo takes pity and decides to participate in this conversation.

 

“Ah, we know something of taking in strays,” he says conversationally, looking at Jamie with a slight nod. “My husband found an injured puppy on the beach near where we used to live and decided that the only appropriate response was to bring it home and adopt it after a trip to the veterinary clinic. All in one night.” Jamie looks politely interested and notably more relaxed. Jesse has stopped mid-step on his way to the next pen to stick his tongue out at Hanzo over Jamie’s shoulder.

 

Interrupting the conversation before Hanzo can make any more comments on Jesse’s life choices, Jesse politely clears his throat. “’Scuse me, but you wouldn’t perchance allow us to pet one o’ these adorable lil critters would ya?” he asks. He’s standing next to the pen of a couple of rabbits.

 

Jesse probably looks perfectly normal to Jamie, but Hanzo can see that his husband is practically quaking in his boots with excitement – he has that child-like glimmer in his eyes and he keeps rolling his shoulders like they’re tense and he is almost imperceptibly shifting his weight from one foot to another.

 

Hanzo has to hold back a laugh at how adorable his husband looks.

 

“Oh, yeah, sure, totally! Which one do you want to pet?”

 

Like a child on Christmas morning.

 

Jesse points out a chubby black-and-brown rabbit and Jamie carefully picks them up out of the pen. The cowboy’s smile shines with glee and Hanzo has to look away before he does something embarrassing like _blush_ at the sight of his 48-year-old husband cooing at a fat rabbit.

 

“Come over here and give ‘im a pet, darlin’! He’s just stunnin’ly soft,” the cowboy says, looking like he’s a little bit in awe of the rabbit.

 

Hanzo takes a small step backwards – they are here for Jesse to pet the animals. He has no such interests. “I’ll pass, thank you.” Jesse looks a little disheartened at that, but does not argue further.

 

After another minute of cradling the creature, Jesse returns it to Jamie; before the kid has even started to put the rabbit back, Jesse has already wandered over to his next point of interest.

 

As Jesse passes Hanzo on his way to the next pen, they subconsciously take hold of each other’s hands and walk together. And though he does not want to admit it, Hanzo is actually sort of... enjoying this.

 

They come to a synchronised stop at the pen of a speckled puppy. Jesse – as though by second nature – drops to a crouch and extends his free hand to the puppy. It trots closer to the bars and raises its snout curiously towards Jesse’s outstretched hand.

 

Hanzo did not notice it at first, but he sees that the puppy has a hole in its left ear and its fur seems to glisten a little in the light. It also has lovely brown eyes, warm and gentle and almost beckoning.

 

Without realising, Hanzo has stooped down next to his husband and is also extending his free hand to the small animal.

 

“Ah, that’s our lovely resident Canary Mastiff! A lively little pup, but perfectly harmless – she’s actually _very_ friendly!” Jamie has bounced over to them and started commentating.

 

“She was found and brought in about three months ago, seemed like she had a tough gig on the streets. The vets fixed her up and put her age to about four months at the time. It looked like she’d been wandering alone for quite a while,” they say. Hanzo notes that they seem to be a little more nervous than before, though he doesn’t quite understand why. “But she’s a tough little pup! And very sweet!”

 

Sounding almost resigned beneath a thick layer of customer-service-bubbly, Jamie continues, “Though I _am_ obligated to warn you that she would need a firm upbringing with people who can clearly establish rules and discipline. She’s from a breed that isn’t fit for beginners.”

 

Ah, a “problem” dog, then. That would explain Jamie’s excitement in their interest.

 

Hanzo carefully regards his husband out of the corner of his eye. Jesse has managed to wiggle his finger in between the bars of the pen and is scratching under the puppy’s chin. Hanzo gets the feeling akin to that of being set up for an ambush.

 

“Um, would you like to hold her?”

 

Hanzo feels a wave of exasperation come over him as Jesse frees both of his hands and stands up – Hanzo can see how he restrains himself from clapping excitedly in the way that he flexes his fingers.

 

“That would be jus’ wonderful, thank you.”  


Jamie looks excited too, as they carefully lift the wiggling puppy out of the pen and carefully deposit her into Jesse’s arms.

 

As soon as she is settled, Jesse lifts one of her paws a little and makes her wave at Hanzo. Absently, Hanzo notes Jamie saying something about how she does not usually take to people this easily. But Hanzo is too busy trying to understand why he feels so wary of Jesse and the puppy.

 

“Come on over here and give ‘er a pet, Hanners, she’s lovely,” Jesse says. Hanzo imperceptibly narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side a little. Something in the way Jesse said that sounded... challenging. Like when he tries to provoke someone to make a risky manoeuvre in a game of blackjack because he knows they were bluffing their cards. Hanzo does not entirely understand what game they’re playing but he knows that if he pets the puppy, he’ll be handing Jesse a victory.

 

So he smiles politely and rolls his shoulders back with a “No thank you, Jesse.” He almost revels in the way that Jesse nearly pouts – he’s been thwarted and now he knows that Hanzo is on to him.

 

In return, Hanzo crosses his arms and quirks his eyebrow at Jesse. Dares his husband to protest.

 

Jesse does not roll his eyes but Hanzo knows that he would, if only it would not appear so abruptly rude to their onlooker. Then he nuzzles his nose against the top of the puppy’s head and she wriggles in his arms, trying to lick his nose; Hanzo’s subconscious suspicions are confirmed – Jesse wants to adopt this puppy.

 

Meeting his husband’s eyes, Hanzo minimally tilts his head forward with an expectant look as if to say _What did we agree on?_

 

Jesse huffs a little and furrows his brow with a slight, negligible downward tilt of his lips: _I know what I said but are you really going to hold me to it?_

 

Jamie is starting to look a little uncomfortable.

 

Hanzo raises both of his eyebrows and his lips momentarily twitch into a frown before returning to his neutral face. _Of course I’m holding you to it._ Hanzo’s unspoken “silly cowman” floats in the air.

 

Jesse pointedly breaks eye contact to look at the puppy, then quickly glances at the room around them (lingering on Jamie for just a split-second) before looking Hanzo straight in the eyes. He raises his eyebrow and cocks his hip out _just_ a little.

 

_How long do you think they’ll let her stay here?_ he’s asking. Hanzo’s gut clenches.

 

It’s only been a few seconds since they started this silent discussion, but the tension has become palpable and Jamie looks like they’re about to flee. Hanzo wants to laugh at the sight, remembering how Lena always jokes about how intense they can get without even saying a word.

 

But he cannot laugh now – Jesse’s unspoken words sit heavy in his stomach, weighing on his heart.

 

Fifteen years ago, he would have sneered at how soft he has become. Taking in stray dogs on a whim, just because a pretty boy bats his eyelashes.

 

But Hanzo has learned what usually happens to dogs that aren’t adopted for a long time. Hanzo has also learned that some dog breeds are stereotyped as dangerous. Thanks to Jesse, he knows that those views are fundamentally wrong – distantly, he remembers Jesse once saying “It’s all about how you raise ‘em – a good owner’ll have a good dog.” He thinks of Baby and how much joy she has brought to their lives, how much love she has shown to them and their friends.

 

He looks at Jesse, knows that Jesse can practically hear his inner monologue. Jesse offers him a soft smile – if Hanzo says no, Jesse will not push him anymore.

 

However, it’s not as though Jesse has any pushing left to do.

 

Jesse must see something on his face, because he exaggeratedly wiggles his eyebrows at Hanzo and it’s like someone lifted the heavy blanket of tension from the room. Hanzo rolls his eyes with a quiet huff, accepting his fate wholeheartedly. Jamie seems to relax at the exchange of teasing gestures.

 

With his spirits somehow lifted, Hanzo turns to Jamie and starts to grill them about the puppy: her medical history, how they had found her, if she has any special requirements, how much daily exercise she requires, any chronic illnesses they should be aware of, et cetera.

 

Jamie, poor kid, looks incredibly confused and mildly terrified throughout all of this. Jesse, however, is wearing a face-splitting grinning, looking like he is trying to not dance around the room with glee. Like the cat that got the cream, even. Hanzo cannot find it in himself to be anything more than lightly disgruntled at how well his husband played him.

 

Finally, Hanzo asks for a price.

 

The kid looks like they are about to ascend to Heaven – not only have they almost certainly sold a “problem dog”, but their cross-examination is finally over.

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Hanzo and Jesse have been lectured on how to raise this dog (and Hanzo is now in possession of a few booklets on said topic) and the puppy has been bought and microchipped.

 

Jesse is still carrying the puppy.

 

The puppy that still does not have a name – though not for lack of trying on Jesse’s behalf. Although even Jesse could not argue with his husband’s exclamation of “No Jesse, I am _not_ letting you decide the name right now. You named our Sarplaninac _Baby_ because it was a nickname that stuck! Now look at her! We are waiting _at least_ one week before we decide on a name.”

 

The vet had let them leave the puppy’s name as her serial number for now.

 

After spending ten minutes deciding on toys for the puppy and buying a new ball for Baby as well, they spend fifteen minutes by the harnesses and collars. Fifteen minutes of debate over colours and patterns and leash lengths and harness and collar designs.

 

Another ten minutes pass as they try to settle on a dog bed and whether or not they need more than one.

 

The one thing they agree on easily is the dog tag (onto which the puppy’s name will be engraved once she... actually has a name).

 

Finally, they have said goodbye to an exhausted Jamie and set off down the street with the puppy eagerly trotting ahead of them, almost tugging on her leash. She keeps stopping to sniff at something every couple of feet and she had peed on the nearest lamppost as soon as they had left the building; Jesse had laughed as Hanzo looked on in horror, clearly having forgotten that not every dog is dignified enough to pee discreetly into a bush.

 

Hanzo subconsciously clasps Jesse’s hand in his own, contemplatively watching the puppy run. Then something occurs to him.

 

“Jesse?”

 

His husband hums, tilting his head toward him but not taking his eyes off the puppy.

 

“Are you not going to tell me about how this was your plan all along?”

 

Jesse does not even register the words fully at first – he clearly has to mull them over for a few seconds. But once he understands to what Hanzo is alluding, Jesse blushes so intensely that he is clearly red even in the oncoming darkness of autumn evening. Hanzo takes a moment to revel in this.

 

“Why sugar, I have no idea _what_ you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” Jesse sounds confident, but Hanzo feels the hand around his clench and unclench marginally. One would not notice it had they not been looking for it.

 

Silently, he continues to look at Jesse.

 

His husband grows visibly more uncomfortable with every step and after a minute, he finally sighs deeply and bows his head.

 

“Faye came in today – d’you remember Faye?”

 

Hanzo ponders for a moment, admittedly caught off-guard by the abrupt topic change. He vaguely remembers Jesse mentioning that name, but no other information comes to mind. Jesse reads his hesitation and nods, continuing.

 

“She’s a regular at Davi’s, works at the rescue pound on the weekends.” Ah, now Hanzo remembers – Jesse had mentioned her once when talking about selling her a couple of croissants as she recounted a tale of a gecko on the loose at the pound. “Anyways, she came in today and told me ‘bout this pup that they’ve had around for a few months. How reclusive she is with everyone except a chosen few, how worried she is that her reserved ways are gonna keep putting people off,” Jesse tilts his head back to inspect the sky, gathering his thoughts.

 

Breathing out deeply, Jesse finally admits, “Well, it hurt my heart, honeybee. Y’know I hate it when critters are abandoned just ‘cause they ain’t friendly or easy to train right off the bat. So I figured we could stop by sometime, see how things go.”

 

Jesse looks sheepish and he’s still blushing and Hanzo can’t really bring himself to be angry at being set up like that. Jesse’s big heart is one of the things Hanzo most loves about him.

 

“You are a fool, Jesse McCree,” he eventually says. Jesse smiles down at him, big and bright, his whiskey eyes and crow’s feet painted in shades of gold and amber by the setting sun.

 

“I’m only a fool for you, Hanzo McCree,” his husband says. A kiss to his wedding ring follows; Hanzo’s heart skips a beat, even after ten years.

 

Grumbling something about kiss-ups, Hanzo looks away and bumps his shoulder against Jesse’s arm as they walk home.

 

* * *

 

 

For the record, it did not take a week to come up with a name – it took precisely three days.

 

On the first day, a magazine went missing from the coffee table in the living room.

 

On the second day, one of Baby’s old tennis balls went missing, as well as a sock from the clean laundry basket.

 

After waking up on the third day with his slippers missing, Jesse had grown very suspicious of their newest family member.

 

Apparently rightly so, because after searching the house for ten minutes, he finally found his slippers tucked discreetly in between the puppy’s bed and the wall in the living room. He also found the magazine (shredded), sock (uncomfortably moist) and Baby’s tennis ball.

 

“Why you cheeky lil...” Jesse had muttered in mild astonishment at the fact that the puppy actually managed to both find _and_ hide those things.

 

Later that day, Jesse and Hanzo took Huntress for a walk to the rescue pound to get her dog tag engraved (and to buy her some more chewy toys).

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! if you wanna chat i’ll be over at meowing-ly.tumblr.com


End file.
